


Anatomy

by Eralk Fang (EralkFang)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6262831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EralkFang/pseuds/Eralk%20Fang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren's training gave him an appreciation for the quirks of natural design. He hoards these details and the people attached to them. A Twi’lek with lekku so sensitive she can read entire rooms based on air currents alone. A fellow Knight whose long-lost hand still feels pain. </p><p>A general whose nipples seem to be hooked up directly to the pleasure center of his brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anatomy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [the following prompt at tfa_kink](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=6828939#cmt6828939):
>
>> Kylo loves to kiss, lick, bite, pinch, pull and twist Hux's nipples before straddling his chest and wanking over him, covering his tits in cum.

During his training as a Knight of Ren, the study of the finer points of anatomy frustrated Kylo Ren. While he appreciated the hard-won knowledge that the Elders of Ren had accumulated over the centuries, he simply didn’t see _the point_. Why bother with the exact vein to stop blood flow to a man’s brain when you could crush his trachea with your mind? Even as an acolyte, with his head shaved and his new name awkward on his lips, he had still been the most powerful Force user in a generation. Why beg when you could ask? Why ask when you could demand? Why _demand_ what you can _take_?

But his training gave him an appreciation for the quirks of natural design. He hoards these details and the people attached to them. A Twi’lek with lekku so sensitive she can read entire rooms based on air currents alone. A fellow Knight whose long-lost hand still feels pain. 

A general whose nipples seem to be hooked up directly to the pleasure center of his brain.

Kylo tugs Hux’s shirt off his shoulders. He’s shirtless himself, kneeling between Hux’s legs as Hux sits at the edge of his bed, in his quarters, the only place he’ll let Kylo touch him at all, let alone like this. Hux lifts his chin and waits for him to make the next move, watching him with those pale eyes. 

If he has a preference for Hux at all, it’s like this—quiet and lustful. Kylo tilts his head back slightly and leans forward to breathe, just breathe, on Hux’s right nipple. It peaks and stiffens, and he gives the other one the same treatment, watching Hux’s face carefully. 

Hux’s face betrays nothing until Kylo wraps his hands around the sides of his chest and rubs his thumbs in slow, patient circles against his nipples. The little nubs of flesh harden against his calloused thumbs, and he watches Hux bite his lip to keep from whining.

Hux fails when Kylo pinches Hux’s left nipple between his thumb and the first knuckle of his index finger—he lets out a long, shaky groan. Amazing, Kylo thinks, how the slightest pressure here can reduce the great general to this. He wonders, not for the first time, if he could make Hux come just from touching his nipples. 

He tears his eyes away from Hux’s rapidly reddening face to shuffle closer and lick a stripe up Hux’s sternum. He tugs, hard, at the nipple already in his hand, and Hux makes a panting noise above his head. 

Kylo turns his head and drags his tongue over Hux’s right nipple. Hux’s groan reverberates through his chest and, therefore, through Kylo’s tongue. Kylo grunts at the sound, and begins applying his mouth in earnest to Hux’s nipple, licking and sucking harder and harder.

He keeps tweaking Hux’s left nipple as he does so, but he eventually lets his right hand drop, trailing his fingertips down Hux’s stomach. He’s in good shape, Kylo thinks, although it’s still perfectly clear who is the officer here and who is the actual warrior.

When his fingers brush against Hux’s belt, he undoes it, and then the fly of Hux’s no-longer crisp trousers, just enough to grab a good handful of Hux’s cock through his regulation underwear. The black fabric was chosen to hide stains, but Kylo feels the fabric moistening as it absorbs Hux’s precome. Hux’s cock is hard and hot against the palm of his hand. His own cock, half-hard in his leggings, stirs and fills in sympathy, and Kylo resists the urge to take himself in hand for a little relief. He wants to see Hux undone before he comes. 

He reaches in Hux’s underwear blindly and pulls his dripping cock out, wrapping his hand around it firmly. Hux grunts above him and his hips move, trying to fuck into Kylo’s hand. But Kylo squeezes him in warning, hard enough to be painful, and Hux stops moving.

Satisfied, Kylo begins pumping Hux’s cock slowly, pressing his thumb into his slit. Hux makes a sharp, gasping noise. But it’s only when Kylo begins sucking on his nipple in earnest that he lets out a low, long moan and places his right hand on Kylo’s shoulder to brace himself. 

Kylo relaxes into a comforting rhythm—working Hux methodically with his right hand, precome leaking over his fingers and knuckles, sucking and biting on his nipple hard enough to make it swell, interrupted only by Hux’s increasingly obscene pants and moans. His own breathing grows labored and his cock is starting to ache painfully from the lack of attention. He rolls his hips in a futile attempt for relief. But he won’t have long to wait—Hux is close, he can tell.

Hux’s hand on his shoulder travels to the back of Kylo’s head, cupping it and roughly pressing him closer to Hux’s chest. Kylo grunts at the unexpected pressure, and redoubles his efforts. He’s practically chewing on Hux’s nipple at this point. Kylo pumps Hux’s cock a little faster and then sucks, _hard_ , on Hux’s nipple, pulling it as far from his chest as he can with just his lips.

Hux comes with an incoherent noise, come dripping down Kylo’s hand. He works him through it at the same pace he got him off with, licking and sucking at his abused nipple gently. Traces of emotions burst from Hux’s mind, and Kylo catches the taste of his lust, his satiety, his triumph. 

Triumph? The bitter tang of it confuses Kylo, and he scratches the surface, heedless of whether Hux notices or not. Under the surface of that emotion, he finds historical minutiae. Hux is thinking of, has been thinking of, a watery planet where warriors once swore fealty to their king by giving suck this way, performing their dependence on him in deeply intimate terms.

Intended, always, as an act of pure submission.

When Kylo’s head clears and he stares up at Hux in blank anger, Hux fists his hand in his hair and kisses him savagely. Kylo lets him, opens his mouth to admit his tongue, but does not kiss him back. 

When Hux pulls back, eyes narrow, Kylo says, sharply, “That’s not what this is.”

Hux’s eyes grow steely. He works his jaw, and Kylo watches his usual sneer crawl back across his face.

“Then what is this, my Lord Ren?” Hux tilts his head, eyes malicious. “Are you slobbering all over my tits because you miss your _mummy_?” 

Hux doesn’t know, Hux _can’t_ know, who he once was and who bore him, but Kylo is nonetheless seized by panic, horror, and rage at how close Hux has blindly struck, how close he has unwittingly let Hux get. Kylo’s face twists in rage and he slaps Hux across the face, hard enough to leave a mark, with his wet hand. Before Hux can react, he shoves him roughly down to the bed and clambers up onto it. The bed groans as he straddles Hux’s stomach, pressing his weight into his soft flesh. Hux makes a choked noise, his face screwed up in anger. 

Kylo shoves the hand wet with Hux’s come down his leggings, pulling out his hard, dripping cock. He hisses as he wraps his hand around his cock, and begins pumping it, almost too roughly to be pleasurable. He wants to come on Hux’s face, paint his face with it, just to put him in his place, just to see the great general so degraded. But Hux’s tongue darts out, licking at the smear of his own come on his face where Kylo struck him. His face twitches as he tastes himself, and Kylo comes with a low whine at the sight of it, striping Hux’s red, abused chest with his come. 

When he opens his eyes—he hadn’t realized he’d closed them—Hux’s face is still cold and superior, appraising him ruthlessly. Kylo is deeply tempted to slap him across the face again and again, but he wipes his hand on Hux’s sheets and dismounts instead, tucking himself back into his leggings and gathering up the rest of his garments. 

Hux just watches him, sprawling on the bed. He looks debauched—pants open, soft cock exposed, nipple swollen and wet with Kylo’s saliva, chest covered in come—and yet, somehow, victorious. 

Kylo dresses quickly—he can’t get out of Hux’s quarters fast enough. As he reaches the doorway, Hux calls out, “You’ll come back.”

He turns back, glaring, hand twitching for Hux’s throat. Hux smirks nastily at him. “You always do.” 

Kylo leaves without saying a word, because there’s nothing to say when they both know Hux is right.

**Author's Note:**

> Hux's little historical fantasy is inspired by [the ancient Irish custom](http://www.irishcentral.com/news/bog-bodies-are-kings-sacrificed-by-celts-says-expert-129289548-237410131.html). (Warning: photos of bog bodies in various states of… uh… cohesiveness? at the link.) THE MORE YOU KNOW.


End file.
